


Properly

by GlowwormiK



Series: Thace&Prorok [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, No Action, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 04:25:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16988004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlowwormiK/pseuds/GlowwormiK
Summary: Thace and Prorok do getreally comfortableonce in while. PWP, soft loving sex (kind of).





	Properly

_That magnificent fur._

Thace is sitting completely naked on top of Prorok, combing through the thick fur on his partner's back with a flat brush. Prorok, lying face down, grunts blissfully when the brush touches an especially sensitive spot. He is fluffy, so his fur needs to be moisturized to avoid electricizing under his clothes - and Thace gladly helps with such a pleasant task. After every three or four strokes, Thace dips the brush in the jar with conditioner and runs the fingers of his left hand through the silky, freshly groomed hair while he waits for excess liquid to drip off; then he goes on with the next part. He started from the shoulders, has already passed the two bald spots on the left side of the ribcage from where the grenade shards hit Prorok’s body and is now down to the lower back. The hairs are shorter here, but also more coarse, so they require as much moisturizer as the royal mane that runs from the behind of Prorok’s ears onto his neck and shoulders.

 

Finally some time to properly pamper his lover. Their shifts are over, their quiznaking endless shifts  - Thace doesn’t know when they will have a whole evening for themselves next time. The big inter-fleet battle training is coming and Prorok wants his troops to truly shine, so there is much to do. While the Commander is out there, chasing his underlings into perfect shape, Thace suffocates under the weight of all the documents he needs to process. All the extra documents, mind you, no one freed him from his regular duties. By the way, those fuel distribution charts were behaving a little off lately, it is not uncommon that dirty-handed suppliers use moments like this to arrange their nasty affairs...

 

“Thace, do you intend to make my butt bald? There are faster ways to achieve that, you know.”

 

The Lieutenant jumps and looks up: Prorok has lifted himself on the elbow and is now watching him with an amused expression. Thace laughs shyly - caught in his thoughts, he has been polishing his lover’s left buttcheek all this time. The brush is pretty hard, so it might have hurt.

 

“Sorry, I got a little distracted,” he murmurs and tries to pat the hurt place, but Prorok doesn’t

let him. He pushes himself off the bed, turns on his back, pinning Thace’s hands under his lower back and flexes his massive muscle, so that Thace feels the perfect hard wave under his fingers.

 

_That strong body._

 

Thace’s face must have betrayed him, because Prorok giggles quietly and his yellow eyes gleam with pride from under the heavy eyelids. Thace bows lower over his lover’s body, kisses Prorok above his belly button and notices that is lover is already fully aroused. This proximity affects both of them more then they would like to show, and not just with physical arousal.

 

“The only thing you are supposed to think about here is me,” Prorok notes in a very dry, official voice, but he simultaneously tickles Thace’s shoulders with the tips of his claws. This contrast is too much - Thace pulls his hands out, moves up and covers Prorok’s mouth with his own.

 

_The heat of his mouth…_

 

He might never get used to it - kissing Prorok is every bit as wonderful as it was the first time during that party. He pulls Thace closer in, wraps one leg around the Lieutenant’s thighs and squeezes the bases of his ears. Thace can’t help a quiet blissful moan.

 

“Still thinking about work?” Prorok asks when he break the kiss. Thace needs a second to understand what he is talking about.

 

“No,” he admits, lies on top of his lover and buries his face in his neck.

 

He really shouldn’t be, Prorok made sure of it. The bed is surrounded with a canopy - Thace found it ridiculous when he first saw it, but now he knows better than that. When he closes the heavy, light-proof curtain behind himself, he finds himself in a cocoon of happiness and acceptance. It is a piece of another reality where there is just the two of them, stripped of their clothes and insignia, where military ranks don’t apply because they simply don’t exist, just like the fleet or the Empire. Where they can be just lovers, not a senior officer and his subordinate. A place where Prorok doesn’t hysterically try to hide his stomach at all costs, a room for Thace to stop feeling guilty.

 

“Thacey,” Prorok murmurs tenderly, rubbing the bases of Thace’s ears and periodically scratching around them. “My perfect lovely Thacey, my precious - beautiful - smart - adorable...”

 

Thace doesn’t let him finish, he kisses again, panting with all the differents emotions that overflow him. He could never understand how Prorok manages to stay so casually chatty even in the heat of the moment. Behind these curtains, Thace struggles to find the last two still vocal brain cells that haven’t yet been overdosed with endorphins.

 

“I love you,” he exhales. For some reason, he can’t force himself to look his lover in the eyes when he admits it, but he also can’t stop himself from saying it. “I love you so much, I...”

 

“I love you too, my sweetheart,” Prorok whispers and cups Thace’s face as they kiss on, unable to pull away from each other. Prorok’s soft, skilled fingers rub gently on Thace’s neck, then shoulders, then he slides his hands lower.

 

_Those soft velvety ears._

 

Thace strokes his lover's ears, Prorok tilts his head back and Thace accepts the invitation, kisses and nuzzles his throat. Prorok is silky and hot, he smells of shower gel, fur conditioner, deodorant and perfume - all at the same time, plus a faint flowery trace of hand cream from his palms on Thace’s face, but the Lieutenant gladly inhales the mixture. Prorok’s fanatic (if not very consistent, due to constant trips) multi-step skin- and fur care routine is worth of a professional gold digger, but it is one of the qualities Thace likes about him. These two hundred bottles and jars in the bathroom are the part of Prorok that he didn’t condition into shape to befcome an ideal commander for the Empire. This, together with indestructible optimism, love for house parties and ability to chat for hours without getting tired is what would remain if Thace could take Zarkon’s influence out of him.

 

Prorok tightens the hug (those intoxicatingly strong arms!), and Thace nips on the base of his neck. The arousal becomes unbearable, he starts rubbing himself on Prorok’s hip, harder, more… He realizes what he is doing when it is almost too late, and he has to pull back, feeling the climax almost closing on him, frantically searching for a non-arousing thought to keep himself from coming. Prorok stares at him, looking offended.

 

“No, wait - just let me… I’ll just…” Thace tries not to look at his lover to be able to calm down, but Prorok doesn’t let him.

 

“What’s wrong? Why did you stop?”

 

“Prorok, I almost came!”

 

“So?”

 

“But I wanted to do it properly at least once! We are always in a hurry!”

 

Prorok laughs, gets up and hugs Thace tightly again.

 

“Who told you that proper has to be long?” he murmurs into Thace’s ear, destroying all his  efforts at self-control.

 

Prorok shifts, presses his forehead to Thace’s and puts his hand around their both penises. They are both leaking already, so his palm slides smoothly. Thace can’t stop himself from squealing as he thrusts for the first time into the warm pressure, feeling the ridges on Prorok’s penis rubbing against his own. He puts his own palm on top of Prorok’s and squeezes a little more, increasing the tempo. The pleasure of every thrust echoes in his whole body. The feeling of his lover’s hand on him is so much more than just doing it himself, even if the process is basically the same. Prorok’s breath becomes ragged, he whimpers with each inhale and has to grab Thace’s shoulder to keeps his balance. The orgasm builds up a whole ecstatic second like a perfect compressed spring before spilling and sending Thace into an already familiar nirvana.

 

When he comes back to his senses, he is lying on his back with his feet already starting to freeze, Prorok’s heavy limp body on top of him. Thace pulls his arm from under his lover, turns on his side to hug him and pulls the blanket to cover both of them. His stomach is sticky, but he is too comfortable to get up and take a shower. Besides, Prorok will inevitably wake up soon, better catch some sleep before he decides to repeat. He buries his face in Prorok’s fur and kisses him behind the ear - the shampoo smell is still there, the skin hot but quickly cooling down. Prorok doesn’t move to the kiss, only murmurs something sleepily. Thace laughs, feeling washed clean from every concern, warmed off of any piece of resentment. Proper really doesn’t have to be long. 

_With that perfect, perfect Prorok._


End file.
